Nobody’s ever sick of reading, really, but the term “reading slump” makes my teeth grind involuntarily so…
Anyway, as I’ve spent god knows how many weeks now reading nothing but fanfiction, this seems appropriate. If you’re also a victim of this particular pit, my sympathies.
Since I’m rusty I’ve only done five books that I can pick up to get back into the game. I suggest reading it twice.
Knots and Crosses – Ian Rankin
I can’t remember the last time I became so heavily invested in a series and a character. The only thing stopping me from reading this again right now is that there’s a whole series of them I haven’t read.
It definitely helps that the books are set in Edinburgh. As someone who works in the city I love trundling past places I’ve read about
Six of Crows – Leigh Bardugo
This is the most deliciously dark and all-consuming and evocative story I’ve read for a long time. Leigh Bardugo has created such a grubby yet gorgeous universe and set of characters.
The Disaster Artist
I’ve read this account of the filming of cult movie sensation The Room several times, and it’s still one of the few books that makes me actually wheeze with laughter. Knowledge of the movie isn’t necessary but strongly recommended.
Additionally, if you haven’t seen The Room, I’d thoroughly recommend gathering some of your closest friends and watching it. It’s the only time in my adult life I’ve come close to peeing myself.
Speak – Laurie Halse Anderson
Laurie Halse Anderson is my ride or die. She’s my idol. Speak is a book that not only shuts me up for at least a day, but it also reinforces my belief that YA is the most vital of all genres.
The Pellinor Series – Alison Croggon
Everyone’s heard me screaming about this series by now, but I love it so much and it’s my go-to when I really can’t be arsed reading anything else. I always have time for Maerad and Cadvan.
On the Road – Jack Kerouac
Jack Kerouac typed the manuscript for On the Road on a single, continuous piece of paper. In three weeks. Goals.
Because of this, the language feels like it’s dropped straight out of Kerouac’s brain into the pages, and it’s so authentic and glorious that every time I read it I feel completely alive with how great writing can be. Hugely pretentious sounding, but true.
What other books are good for when I hit the wall? GO.